


It's Not a Secret I Try to Hide

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Reader (Marvel), Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Reader-Insert, Stubborn!Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: You know that Loki loves you, and he knows that he loves you, but what would it take to admit it?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 133





	It's Not a Secret I Try to Hide

**Author's Note:**

> My response to a Tumblr ask with this prompt: "You make me nauseated." "It's called love."

Somehow, over the year-long period that you had spent living and working with the Avengers, Loki had cemented himself firmly into your heart.

It had started slowly. The first time you had noticed him was when he kept the door from swinging into your unobservant face when you were leaving a mission briefing, not even looking at you as he gripped onto the glass before stalking away. The second was when you had grumbled to Cap loudly about how your favorite blanket for couch snuggling was ruined by blood from a distracted Bucky, and two more replaced it the very next day. When you’d asked the others about it, they claimed to have assumed FRIDAY ordered it for you.

But you knew better.

Because along with the small gestures here and there, you had noticed the slight shift in his behavior around you. The looks that he gave your male coworkers when they drew too close to you for his liking, or how close he would stick to you during jobs that got a bit dicey and dangerous. He had blocked several bullets for you on more than one occasion.

So you had made the first move, deciding that he wasn’t going to, one evening when you were watching television while he was reading beside you.

“You like me,” you stated boldly, poking him in the arm.

He quirked an elegant brow, not even looking up from his book. “I tolerate you more than the others.”

You shifted and pulled your knees beneath you, sitting on them and facing him fully. Your finger never stopped poking his impressively firm bicep. “No, you _like_ me.”

With a heavy, exasperated sigh, he closed his book and placed it on the coffee table that supported his crossed feet before leaning back again. “What are you implying?”

His pupils expanded to cover most of the dazzling green of his eyes when your hand reached out to settle over his collar-bones, fingertips grazing over the smooth column of his throat. You leaned forward, supporting yourself with your other hand on his thigh, drawing close until there was only a breath separating you. “You’re attracted to me, you enjoy my company. You want to _kiss_ me.”

His eyes flicked between yours before dropping to your slightly pouted lips, indecision warring plainly in his gaze. But you could wait all evening, poised above him, offering yourself up to him for the taking. Thankfully, he didn’t make you wait long, tilting his chin to brush your lips together in an impossibly tender kiss that chipped away at the outermost layer of emotional protection around your fragile heart.

And with each lingering touch on your arm in passing, each heated look dragging down your body from across a room, and each stolen kiss when you were alone, he worked his way into your heart and soul until there was no use denying it.

Now if only he would admit that he held the same feelings in return.

“You love me,” you teased in a sing-song, pecking him on the cheek before stepping around him to grab your water bottle from where he had placed it down after wordlessly refilling it for you.

He glanced around to confirm your solitude before hooking his arm around your waist, tugging you toward him so that you were fitted against the length of his lean body. With the barest of smiles cracking the perpetually apathetic expression that masked his handsome face, he countered with his typical reply of, “I tolerate you.”

Your hand stretched across his back, delighting in the flex of his muscles beneath the warm, soft cotton of his black t-shirt. The other rubbed the cold metal bottle against the dip of his spine, earning you a quiet relieved groan. When your head tucked beneath his chin to nuzzle your cheek into his chest, his fingers tightened around you, drawing you impossibly closer. “Well, I love you.”

“As you should,” he hummed, clearly pleased. His lips pressed against the top of your head in a soft kiss that you honestly didn’t expect, considering you were quite sweaty from a recent sparring session with the god holding you captive in his loving embrace.

You slapped his chest, pulling yourself from his embrace to take a long pull of icy cold water courtesy or your Frost Giant. “You’ll admit it one day!”

Perhaps the Christmas season would draw the warm-fuzzies out of your chilled sweetheart?

You rolled over in his arms on the couch, carefully arranging your legs between his and drawing your arms up to prop yourself up onto his chest. He dutifully repositioned the blanket over your bodies, letting his hands settle on your hips once his task was complete.

“May I help you?” His head tilted to the side against the arm of the couch to better take in the thoughtful expression that had you biting on your bottom lip gently.

Your hands tugged lightly at his raven hair that tumbled over his shoulders. “This is nice. You, me, a cheesy Christmas movie, cozy blanket, snow falling outside over the twinkling New York City skyline. I love it. I love you.”

His practiced indifference didn’t crack beyond the warmth shining in his eyes. “It is quite enjoyable.”

You deflated, hands going limp over his shoulders. “Enjoyable?”

“Is that not what you desired to hear?” The lazy circles he had been drawing on your hips stopped and he tensed beneath you.

You climbed off of him, throwing the blanket away with a huff, stalking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to stare out at the bustling city beneath you. You had been trying and trying for over to a year to peel away the complicated layers of his armor to get at the real man underneath, and he just wouldn’t give. You didn’t need sweeping declarations of love from the man, grand gestures or lavish gifts. Just _something_ to show he cared. You were only human.

“Have I upset you?” he asked, his footsteps echoing over the smooth floors to bridge the distance between you. The heat of his body radiated against your back, scented with pine and male musk that made your knees weaken at the delicious familiarity of it.

“Cut the shit, Loki,” you snapped, your withheld emotions boiling over suddenly and without warning, turning to pin him down with the full force of your glare. “You’re playing at this scared, hesitant game with me and I’m tired of it. I love you, and you know it. I’m never happier than when I’m with you, even if we’re in the middle of a warzone kicking ass and getting ours handed to us. So until you decide that you’re allowed to have emotion, and _show_ emotion when we’re alone, you can spend your evenings by yourself.”

He stopped your dramatic exit with a hand wrapped gently around your wrist. You didn’t turn around to face him, forcing him to step around so that his torso encompassed your field of vision. He was going to have to work for it. “I enjoy your company.”

You shifted your weight to your back foot, popping your hip and shaking your head as you stared up at him with narrowed eyes. “More.”

It was like you had asked him to relinquish all of his daggers, he looked so frustrated. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand before dropping it to hang loosely at his side. “I am quite fond of you.”

Your finger dug into the knit sweater over his sternum. “Try harder.”

An unbelievable vulnerability slowly came over his face, starting in the downward tilt of his brows to the tightness of his clenched jaw. He brushed his hands down your arms to lace your fingers together in the chilled chasm between you. His deep exhaled breath washed across your face in a cloud of peppermint and chocolate. “You have made my days spent in this infernal tower tolerable. I find myself longing for you as soon as I wake, and yearning for you when we are apart. There is nothing akin to the balm that your touch provides on my skin, and I long to spend eternity at your side.”

It took every ounce of willpower that you had within you to not tear up at his words. The corners of your eyes pricked with heat and you tapped your foot on the floor, willing the stone-cold badass inside of you to take control. Your accusatory finger curled along with the rest of your hand over where his heart beat the strongest, fast and heavy as he waited for your reaction with bated breath.

Once you had regained some semblance of control, you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and lean your forehead against his. “You _love_ me.”

He rolled his eyes, but his hands still held onto your hips to steady you against him nonetheless. “You make me nauseated.”

You pecked a quick kiss on the corner of his upturned lips. “It’s called love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3 I appreciate y'all!


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